


Another Drink

by that_one_urchin



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Bisexual Waverly Earp, Drinking, F/F, F/M, I Don't Even Know, LGBT, Minor Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught, One Shot, Short One Shot, Waverly Earp-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 20:51:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15714864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/that_one_urchin/pseuds/that_one_urchin
Summary: The only thing Waverly could compare the feeling to was when she would fall and skid her knee in front of other kids. It hurt but she felt the need to cover up the pain, to take another three gulps until Wynonna pulled her away.





	Another Drink

**Author's Note:**

> What even is this? I don’t know. I got bored and decided to post it. So, here it is I guess...

The first drink Waverly ever tries is whiskey. It probably should’ve been something less strong, like a can of beer or something - but that wasn’t the Earp way. She was four years old, barely tall enough to peer over the table and see her father hugging a bottle of the liquid tighter than he’s ever held her. 

It was supposed to be one of those great dinners her sisters always talk about, Wynonna telling her that once she’d made Gus choke on milk laughing at one of the dinners and Willa commenting that they’d only stopped them once Waverly had been born. Still, the Earps always tried to pull the pieces of their family together. They set the table, Waverly picked flowers, and Wynonna even put on her church dress. They had the widest smiles and the biggest hopes. 

Still, Ward arrived an hour late in his wrinkled work clothes with an amber stain across his chest. Still, Willa ended up on her hands and knees collecting shattered pieces of a plate he’d thrown against the wall.

“Waverly, go on and help your sister.” He gestured towards the mess with his whiskey hand and frowned when a bit of it sloshed out of the bottle. 

Waverly scrambled to comply but Wynonna’s arm came out and grabbed her before she could. She tried to move but Wynonna was much stronger than her, so she stopped struggling.

“She’s four. She could cut herself.” Wynonna spoke up. 

For a moment Ward had the same expression on his face he usually did before he would hit one of them, but the scowl slipped away instantly. Then he just looked as if he was going to cry and that was scarier than anything else he could’ve done, hurt Waverly more than any punch or kick would. 

Even as a child Waverly prayed to not care as much as she did about people who didn’t deserve it.

“Fine.” Ward sighed and slowly, Wynonna released her. 

Waverly used her arms to push herself up on the chair she’d been sitting in when dinner started. She climbed to her feet and stood so her waist was at the same height as the edge of the table. As Waverly studied him, Ward barely looked at her. He had his eyes on his whiskey and she was suddenly just as fascinated by it as he seemed to be. 

What was so special about a drink that you’d ruin family dinners for it? 

“Can I try some?” 

Normally he probably would’ve said no or simply ignored her, but this time Ward shrugged and slid the bottle across the table. Waverly carefully held the neck with both her hands and tilted her head back, taking a sip. 

It wasn’t great. Actually, it was kind of terrible. 

The only thing Waverly could compare the feeling to was when she would fall and skid her knee in front of other kids. It hurt but she felt the need to cover up the pain, to take another three gulps until Wynonna pulled her away again.

///

The second drink she tries is beer. 

It’s a party. She’s supposed to be having fun and beer will help - at least that’s what Champ had said. Waverly has this bad habit of believing everything Champ says, its sophomore year and he’s been the star quarterback for about a month while she’s been head cheerleader since freshmen. So naturally, she’s had a crush on him for about a month. 

She’s known him since elementary school and never been interested. Suddenly every girl in her class wants, as he’d put it, a slice of the Champmister. Suddenly it bothers her that everyone hangs all over him. Suddenly she wants to do anything to impress him, including getting drunk off her ass. 

“It’s just a little beer.” Champ slurs, clearly already hammered. 

The party only started an hour ago and Waverly had gathered quite a crowd by mentioning that she was - possibly the only one - sober. Chrissy approached her with Jell-O shots more than once and some guy had offered her a drink with a foaming pill at the bottom of it, so Waverly had backpedaled into the kitchen. Then, into Champ’s newly muscled arms. 

“Come on baby. Have a sip or two.” He nearly falls on top of her and presses his forehead to her shoulder. 

It reminds her of her dad and how sometimes he’d pass out on top of her. It should probably turn her off, but Waverly’s mind is only focused on the way he had called her baby in front of everyone. It makes her feel normal, like she’s not Wynonna “that one crazy bitch” Earp’s sister. She can’t walk into a party, bulletproof in black like Wynonna. She needs Champ to make her normal.

“Okay.” Waverly says. He smirks, even kisses her cheek when he hands her the plastic cup.

She doesn’t like it any better than whiskey buy still feels the strange fallen feeling, as if she must have it again and again. So she does. 

Waverly ends up drinking her way through the remainder of high school. She fails a test? Beer is there. Champ’s cheats on her? Waverly runs for a keg. Her cheer squad turns ruthless and laughs when Wynonna visits town for Christmas? Beer wipes away the memory of those vultures, makes it seem like everyone is smiling at her.

Beer steals her problems. The alcohol fixes her world. Most of the time she drinks at parties or gets soaked after games when the girls pour buckets of it on each other. Though sometimes, after a day of studying and homework and expectations and not being good enough for anyone in the entire universe, beer isn’t for a celebration. Sometimes, Waverly drinks it in front of the television, her feet resting on the coffee table and a pillow propped up next to her in place of her sister.

Finally, she gets what her father had been doing with his whiskey before he had died. 

///

Rum comes into her life on a Saturday night in a club she’d waited an hour to get into. Her fake ID might as well have been burning a hole in her pocket with the way Waverly - or Eleanor Gibson, as the card said - kept touching it. She felt as if someone was going to jump out at her at any point and expose her for being nineteen, therefore not old enough to even step foot in this place. It didn’t help that she wasn’t a good liar and still had a bad case of baby face.

She wondered if everyone could tell she was underage. When she looked around all the other girls were dressed relatively the same, in either tight dresses or shorts small enough to be underwear. Waverly noted, with a hint of anxiety, that they looked better than she did in their outfits.

Her sexuality rattled around in her mind, a secret kept hidden even in her own head. She just needed to loosen up, that’s what Champ would- no. She just needs to stop doing what Champ would tell her to do, that’s what Wynonna would say. Waverly holds her head high and walks over to the bar. 

It kind of seems like the crowd shifts to let her pass through to reach the counter. It’s weird, because most of the time she’s the one to step out of the way to let other people by. Things are different in the club. She thought her sister had been joking when she mentioned people usually let pretty girls order their drinks first. 

There’s a tan, skinny guy standing behind the counter with a mustache thicker than his arms. He looks at her - he’s the first guy of the night to have focused on her face and not her cleavage - and Waverly realizes she hadn’t thought about what to order.

“Hey. You know what you want?” The bartender asks. 

“Yes. Definitely.” Waverly replies immediately, nodding. She nods for a while, almost long enough that it’s clear she doesn’t know what she’s doing.

Someone comes up behind her. Someone tall and warm, Waverly guesses it’s a girl by the red nail polish and unfamiliar press of breasts against her back. 

“Two mojitos, please. Thanks Jeremy.” She says. The bartender- Jeremy, gives an awkward thumbs up and then goes to get the drinks the girl ordered.

Well, so much for needing an ID.

Waverly turns around and finds the stranger standing very close with her hands on either side of the bar. When the other girl notices this too she takes a polite step back and smiles. This is the same moment Waverly notices that she’s pretty, with light orange hair and dimples appearing on both sides of her pale cheeks. 

“Hi. I’m Nicole.” 

“Eleanor.” She introduces herself, remembering her fake name at last minute.

Jeremy comes back with their drinks about a minute later and Waverly figures out she likes Nicole, also mojitos - though she isn’t sure what’s in the drink. It’s nice to have a drink that makes her feel pleasant with no feelings attached. It’s better, later in the night when the rum gives her the courage to press her open mouth to Nicole’s neck.

For once she truly enjoys the alcohol in her veins. That is, until she wakes up the next day with a throbbing headache and throws up all over dorm room. 

///

It’s kind of weird that Waverly is in her forties and hasn’t tried wine yet. She just never felt the need to drink it, she considered it an old lady drink until she became an old lady herself. Plus, all the other mothers in Purgatory seemed to love flocking into someone’s kitchen and sipping wine while gossiping about who had stains on their rug at the last book club meeting.

Waverly spends her days at home with the kids, only leaving the house to drive her son to soccer practice or her daughter to gymnastics. Occasionally they’ll stop at McDonalds and load up on some of those plastic limited edition toys her children whine about. Other than that, Waverly has no reason to leave and nowhere to go. 

Once she does start drinking wine she sees why so many people drink it. It calms her, takes a while to get drunk off of, and she looks super classy when sipping it - even if she’s watching Breaking Bad in her stained sweatpants. Also if she puts on a nice dress, grabs some glasses and a bottle of expensive wine, sometimes Champ will pay more attention to her when he comes home.

There’s tons of pluses to wine. One of them is that it distracts middle aged women from asking questions about her when they visit for a book club meeting. 

Someone new is apparently coming and new people make Waverly nervous, and nerves make her want whiskey. So it’s nearing seven, ten minutes before the girls are supposed to show up, and Waverly is drunk off her ass in a silver dress. She hadn’t even read the book yet. About an hour ago she had been determined to skim through all of the chapter summaries online - god, high school Waverly would personally murder her with only her perfect report card - and had ended up grabbing the whiskey to calm herself. 

Maybe she’s having a midlife crisis. Her mind keeps getting hung up on different things. Nicole, the girl who’d left her behind to go find adventure in somewhere far nicer than Purgatory (Waverly had been too scared to go, Nicole had been too scared to stay). Wynonna, who’s a total fuck up but is still living her life better than Waverly, out on the road with her motorcycle and a ten years sober chip in her pocket. 

The only thing Waverly really has to look forward to in her life is trying the damn wine. As the doorbell rings Waverly tries to stand and slips, spilling the drink across her chest. She sighs. 

She is an Earp, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m probably going to be posting some smut either today or tomorrow so look out for that (if u want)


End file.
